


Take My Hand and Walk with Me

by Shi_Toyu



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, BAMF Tony Stark, Childhood Trauma, Fix-It, Gen, Spoilers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 17:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu
Summary: AVENGERS: ENDGAME SPOILERS. SUMMARY WITHIN.





	Take My Hand and Walk with Me

**Author's Note:**

> Tony Stark has a complicated relationship with Death. He had since he was six years old.
> 
> WARNINGS: Temporary Character Death, Canon-typical violence, violence towards a child, brief suicidal language

The first time he met her, Tony was only six years old. He’d slipped on the slick, polished wood of the grand foyer staircase and fallen. His neck had snapped before he was even halfway down. He’d hovered there, staring wide-eyed and uncomprehending, at this own body for what felt like forever before she appeared.

“Hello, little one.”

Her form twisted and curled like smoke, like those ghostly projections in old movies. She was both tangibly _there_ and yet somehow ethereal. Tony blinked up at her, but her face remained obscured to his sight. He got the feeling she was very beautiful, though.

“Am I dead?” he asked.

He wasn’t a foolish child. He knew how the evidence added up. In all honesty, Tony was mildly surprised he wasn’t freaking out _more_. He was probably in shock. Did that happen to ghosts? It seemed like it would be reasonable, especially with a traumatic death. His hadn’t been particularly traumatic, he supposed, but it had been rather sudden.

“Would you like to be?” the being’s melodic voice answered his question with one of her own.

There was a hypnotic quality to it, the tone drawing him in. It reminded Tony of his mother’s voice, back when she used to sing him Italian lullabies when he was very small, but also Mr. Jarvis’s. Mr. Jarvis was always the best at soothing him when he’d been injured or was upset. Sometimes he had trouble calming down on his own and it wouldn’t do for Howard to see him distraught.

Tony was so caught up in the mere sound of her voice, that he almost missed her question.

“What do you mean?”

Was there a chance he could return? Come back to life? Was he having one of those out-of-body hallucinations he’d heard about on the morning talk shows his mother liked to watch? Maybe none of this was real. Maybe he would wake up in the hospital with a concussion and learn it was all just because of the drugs they’d given him.

“You don’t have to die yet,” the being told him, gliding forward. A delicate hand appeared from within the folds of her garment, the skin smooth and soft-looking. A gentle breeze drifted through the room and the flesh of her hand shifted briefly to reveal the bleached-white bone underneath. “All you have to do is ask, tell me you want to stay a little longer…”

Tony bit his lip. It sounded good. Tony wasn’t sure he was ready to die yet. He’d barely accomplished _anything,_ and he still had so much left to prove. Howard would probably be so disappointed in him if he died now. But Howard had also told him time and time again, along with all his other pearls of wisdom, that ‘If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. People are going to try and take advantage of you wherever you turn. It’s up to you not to let them.’

Tony didn’t want to think this being was taking advantage of him. He hadn’t known her long, but he _liked_ her. Something about her was just so tranquil and calming.

“What do you want in return?” he forced himself to ask.

He couldn’t see it, but Tony could _sense_ her smile, her pride. It made him feel better about questioning her.

“What a little merchant,” she praised him, and warmth bloomed in his chest at the kind words. “That will serve you well…”

.

The second time Tony died; it was in a car accident with his father’s driver. The police who arrived at the scene said it was a miracle that he hadn’t died when the tree had fallen and smashed the roof of the car. The driver hadn’t been so lucky.

.

The kidnapping had been terrible from the start. The guys who had taken him to ransom him back to Howard clearly had no idea what they were doing. Tony was pretty sure they hadn’t even meant to shoot him.

.

Ty was the one who got him hooked on cocaine after his parents died. It took less than three months for Tony to OD. He woke up in the hospital, but detoxing and rehab were still far more pleasant than the looming feeling of disappointment that hung over him. He was meant for so much more. Tony deleted Ty’s number from his phone as soon as he got it back.

.

Lab safety had never been Tony’s top priority and engineering while tired had its dangers.

.

He was surfing in Malibu, off his own private stretch of beach, when the tide pulled him under. He might have been able to make it back up to the surface, but his safety cord got snagged by a bit of coral on the ocean floor. When he woke up, washed up on the sand, ten miles down the shoreline, the irony wasn’t lost on him.

.

Open heart surgery in a cave without any real medical facilities or proper equipment was a hard thing to survive.

.

Of all the craziness that went on during Loki’s invasion, Tony was almost surprised that it was a _fall_ that killed him. He’s been put through a glorified blender and made it out just a little banged up, thanks to Cap finally pulling the damn lever. But Loki had been at his tower, just like Tony had predicted, and maybe he’d antagonized the god just a _little_ too much. The hand wrapped around his throat was uncomfortable but being hurled through a plate glass window had not been on his approved activities list. Tony’s body hit terminal velocity in a matter of seconds, the air literally ripped out of his lungs. He died before he reached the 50th floor and woke back up to the suit wrapping around him, just in time to keep himself from crashing into the pavement.

.

Tony had died many times in his life. Every time, she was there to meet him. It was morbid, really, how casually he came to consider their encounters. He still didn’t like the things that led up to death, didn’t seek it out and did what he could to avoid it, was _very_ adamant about avoiding the pain that often came with it. He didn’t enjoy being in danger. He hated the feelings of pain and fear. The death itself, though, that bit was never too bad.

The being, Death, as Tony had come to call her, never asked for anything specifically from him during their little interactions. There was always the unspoken expectation that she would someday, though, that she had a use for him that he hadn’t yet reached. It was just that, every time he died, they weren’t quite there yet.

Tony hadn’t realized what it was he truly feared until Ultron went haywire. Well, until shortly before, at least, when he had that vision. He was already struggling against the PTSD and the nightmares, but the sight of the Avengers, his _team_ , laying dead in a crumpled heap, of Steve blaming him with his last breath… It was too much. Too many people had already died because of him, _for_ him, in some cases. He couldn’t let it happen again. He might be able to come back, but what was the point if he lost everyone he loved in the process?

.

In Siberia, alone and half-frozen in a bunker, his ribs broken and puncturing things that really shouldn’t be punctured, Tony begged for her to take him, to let him rest. He was just so tired. He’d tried so hard and it hadn’t been _enough_. It was never _enough_. _He_ was never enough. She’d patted his cheek fondly and sent him back. He’d lived, recovered, gathered himself together and kept moving forward. He didn’t have much of a choice.

.

When Thanos came, Tony thought he’d finally found what she’d kept him around for. Everything had led to this. They had to stop Thanos, put an end to his mad plan. For all his intellect, Tony couldn’t even comprehend the number of lives at stake if they failed. It wasn’t an option.

They failed, and Peter died in Tony’s arms. He howled at Death, cursed her, dared her to come and take him, too. She didn’t respond.

.

Tony was only faintly curious, as their ship drifted through space, engines dead and supplies dwindling, how she was going to get him out of this one. Even if she brought him back, with the oxygen depleted, he’d just die all over again. He tried not to focus on it, instead working on making Nebula’s last few days as nice as possible. She deserved so much better than the hand she’d been dealt, and, unlike Tony, she didn’t have a ticket back.

He also did his best not to think about what it meant that Thanos had gotten the time stone. Peter and the others being dusted could only mean he’d won. Why had Strange given it over? If he was able to see into the future, surely, _surely_ , he would have known that Tony would survive any injury Thanos gave him. Why had he handed over the exact thing Thanos needed in order to succeed?

When Carol Danvers showed up, Tony was mostly just tired. He was glad he wouldn’t have to lose Nebula, though. He’d grown attached and he’d lost far too much, far too _many_ , already.

.

The next five years were surprisingly peaceful, all things considered. Tony settled down, cut the avengers out of his life, lavished his amazing, incredible daughter with every ounce of love he could muster. He didn’t die once. Some nights he would lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and wondering about how much longer he had. This couldn’t go on forever, could it? The next time Tony died; would it be the last?

.

They could fix it.

Fucking Steve Rogers had found a way, damn him. Tony hadn’t been able to keep from poking at the idea Steve, Natasha, and Lang had brought him that afternoon. He hadn’t expected it to actually be viable, not in a million years. There was just no way. Except, apparently, that there was one way.

He felt sick to his stomach at the implications, at the threat of what he might lose. Pepper was right, though, stopping himself had always been a fruitless endeavor. He would just have to make very clear what his conditions were, that no one who had been born since the snap could be lost. It wasn’t an option. Tony wouldn’t let it be.

.

Tony hadn’t been thinking when he stole the infinity gems from Thanos, pulling them right out of the gauntlet before he was tossed away. He wasn’t planning or predicting, just acting on instinct. He was desperate, willing to do whatever it took. The stones rose, slotting into place as his nanite glove shifted to make room for them.

“And I am Iron Man.”

He snapped his fingers and the energy of the stones tore through him. He might have screamed. The pain was just so _intense_ , more than anything he’d ever felt before, more than any death he’d died. He could feel his body failing, being ripped apart by the power. He just needed to hold on long enough for it to _work_ -

“Thank you, little one.”

Her soothing voice swept over him, carrying the pain away with it. He blinked his eyes open, unsure of when they’d fallen shut, to stare up at her. Her shroud was wrapped around them both, blocking out everything around them.

“Was this it, then?” he asked, sounding small, feeling so much like that little boy he’d been when they’d first met. “Was this why you kept me around? Did I do it?”

“Yes, you did it,” she praised, leaning forward to press a cold, feather-light kiss to his forehead. “I knew I had made the right choice with you. You did not fail me.”

Tears gathered in his eyes, a sob catching in his chest.

“Morgan, my-my daughter, is she going to be alright?”

He was never going to get to celebrate another birthday with her, get to watch her grow up, tell her he loved her. He’d left that recording, but it wasn’t enough. It could never be enough. He didn’t want to be an absent father like Howard had been. He didn’t want to leave Pepper to raise their daughter all alone. He wondered if he could bargain for just enough time to see her once more. All he needed was a few minutes. He’d always want more, of course he would, but at least then he’d have the chance to say a proper goodbye, to make sure she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt how much he loved her.

Death made a pleased sound, low in her throat.

“You can make sure of that yourself, little one. I’ll be watching out for you.”

.

They said it was a miracle that he survived, that it must have had something to do with the energy output from the arc reactor in his suit. It was the only explanation. Tony just smiled and let them believe what they wanted. It was over, that was what mattered, and he got to say his favorite words another million times.

“I love you 3000.”


End file.
